So this happened:
I was away at the meetings of the American Folklore Society — in New Orleans, of all places — and well-sheltered from the storm. But Sarah was here in Philadelphia. And from my relative proximity, I had ample opportunity to worry — to imagine her ambling about a heath, blustering, with only the cats to keep her company:
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drench’d our steeples, drown’d the cocks!
It turns out that Sarah was okay. It turns out that she was holed up in the house, with safe-and-dry cats, watching the lousy local news and going a little stir-crazy. It turns out that she didn’t even lose power.
But how was I to know that? Except — you know — from the constant barrage of text messages assuring me that she had decided, in fact, not to take a Lear-style stroll about town.
It’s possible that I overreacted a little.
At any rate: I have no food post for you today. But while I was in New Orleans (have I mentioned just how safely away from Sandy I was?) I managed to take a few photographs. And I wanted to share them here.
I hope that they will tide you all over until the weekend, at which point normal posting about food and politics (or perhaps politics and food) will resume apace. In the meantime — do click on them to view them large. And enjoy!
